


The Lady or the Tiger

by StripedSunhat



Category: Neko no Ongaeshi | The Cat Returns
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Friendship, Gen, Is this AU?, POV Outsider, Paranoia is in the Eye of the Beholder, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Unreliable Narrator, doesn't always win, fae, is this canon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripedSunhat/pseuds/StripedSunhat
Summary: By the time Hiromi realizes the truth she’s already been gone for more than a year.Haru is gone.Hiromi is left picking up the pieces, sorting through them for the truth.Haru is gone.Hiromi is left, trying figure out what the truth is worth.Haru is gone.
Relationships: Yoshioka Haru & Hiromi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	The Lady or the Tiger

By the time Hiromi realizes the truth she's already been gone more than a year.

The realization settles in Hiromi’s gut, churning restlessly.

Only now can Hiromi see it. She didn’t before. No one did. No one does.

“–romi? Hiromi?” A sharp finger pokes Hiromi in the side. “Are you okay?” It’s Haru’s face, Haru’s voice, Haru’s little concerned head-tilt.

It is not Haru.

Hiromi sits there, letting the sick feeling of realization harden into the cold dread of certainty and does not know what to do.

Across from her the thing wearing Haru’s face sips its tea and smiles at her.

* * *

There is no getting rid of this thing.

Hiromi knows when they lost her. The night Haru vanished from her home, the morning it was found on the school roof. The time in between. She remembers its strangeness the first few days, speaking from a script it had never read. She remembers the weeks that followed, the way the edges smoothed as it stepped into its role.

It attends her school and sits in her chair and her teachers call it by her name. It walks through her city and wanders her streets and her friends greet it with smiles. It lives in her house sleeps in her bed and her mother loves it. It has taken Haru’s life completely and utterly. It is entrenched.

Hiromi knows what it is. What it _isn’t._

It does not matter.

She cannot do anything.

* * *

Hiromi avoids the creature for a week. She cannot bring herself to look it in its face. She cannot bring herself to speak to it. If she opens her mouth she will be screaming.

She wants to destroy it. She wants to set it on fire and see if it burns. She wants to stab it and see if it cracks. She wants to grab it not let go until it gives Haru back. She cannot do any of that.

As far as the world is concerned it is Haru.

She wants to throw up.

It is all that is left of Haru. It is the only link to Haru.

Hiromi swallows down her revulsion and her anger and her fear. She meets its eyes, she makes her excuses. She smiles and falls into step and pretends she does not know.

It is the only thing she can do.

* * *

The thing that isn’t Haru keeps secrets. It disappears and reappears without warning or explanation.

Would Hiromi find her friend? Instead of this wrong, too-perfect replacement?

There are answers where it goes, Hiromi is sure of it.

* * *

The thing is, it isn’t evil.

Maybe it had been at first; Hiromi doesn’t know. But if it was it isn’t evil anymore. After it replaced Haru it had striven to be as like her as it could. And Haru had been too boundlessly good for evil to remain in the face of that. Not perfect, not pure, but _good._ Simple, uncomplicated, unending goodness.

So whatever else that thing is, it is it evil. Hiromi believes that.

It’s what lets her sleep at night rather than lying awake staring at the ceiling thinking of that thing using Haru’s face, her voice, her easy smile. Of people looking at it and seeing a harmless schoolgirl.

* * *

There are days Hiromi can’t bring herself to do anything that doesn’t have to do with Haru. Haru is gone. _Haru is gone_. Hiromi is the only one who knows. Hiromi doesn’t deserve to call herself her friend if she’s not doing everything to bring her back.

There are days when it fades to the background. Haru is gone. Hiromi is not. Haru never would have wanted Hiromi to give up her life for her. Haru, who smiled at strangers and cared about people she’d never met, who fed stray cats and once sprained her wrist returning a baby bird to its nest, wouldn’t have wanted anything else to be lost looking for her.

_Haru is gone. Hiromi is not._

* * *

Haru is gone. Hiromi is not.

Life does not stop and Hiromi refuses to either.

So she plays lacrosse. She dates Tsuge. She starts learning the flute. She gossips with her friends. She hugs her parents and visits with her grandmother. She **_lives_**.

And when she and Tsuge have a fight it matters. She yells at him and cries to herself and it matters.

She’s in the middle of deciding whether to rip up all her photos of him or if she’s feeling dramatic enough to set them on fire when the thing that isn’t Haru shows up carrying three cartons of pistachio ice cream. “Tsuge is a jerk,” it announces. “An absolute jerk.” It pulls Hiromi over to her bed and doles the cartons out, one for each of them and a third to share. “You can do so much better than him.”

There are days it does nothing but remind Hiromi of her failure. There are days she can barely stand the sight of it. And then there are days like today, where life moves on and it is the closest thing she has to her best friend. Hiromi pries the lid off her carton and shovels a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “I don’t want to do better than him.”

“Then he’ll figure out that he’ll never do better than you and realize the error of his ways. And if he doesn’t, I’ll explain it to him.”

They paint each other’s nails and watch bad television dramas and fight over the third carton, ignoring their own full ones melting beside them. Haru had always been the best at knowing how to cheer Hiromi up. The thing that isn’t Haru is just as good at it.

“Hey do you remember that lacrosse game, the first year you started playing? The one in the rain?”

“I remember you slipping on the stands and sliding down three steps.”

“I caught myself!”

“With your butt. Do you remember your first attempt at pottery?”

“First and last. It wouldn’t even stand upright. What about when you decided you were going to master watercolors?”

They stay up the entire night playing ‘do you remember’. The thing that isn’t Haru doesn’t get a single one wrong. After a while Hiromi stops expecting her to.

* * *

Hiromi forgets sometimes. When she scrunches up her nose at their algebra homework even though they both know she’ll get all the answers right in the end. When they’re out and she pulls them into a store only to get caught up deciding between two of the exact same thing. 

Hiromi will tease and pull a silly face to get a laugh, no plans or ulterior motives. She’ll roll her eyes grab a third one knowing that one will be the one picked in the end. And for those brief moments nothing will be wrong.

And then a cat will stop and bow its head and she will remember.

She forgets sometimes. That it’s not really her friend.

* * *

Haru had loved cats. She used to talk to them occasionally. And save them. That’s important. Hiromi is sure of it. Haru saved cats.

This thing that isn’t Haru talks to cats too. Whispers and hissed words, hushed conversations Hiromi isn’t supposed to hear. The difference is that where Haru had just talked, this thing that isn’t seems to expect something back. She pauses when they meow, tilting her head like she’s listening.

The worst part is that the cats answer.

When she speaks their ears will tip forward and their tails will twitch in time with her words. Their paws will brush their whiskers when she says goodbye, almost like a wave.

Haru had loved cats. But she’d never expected them to be anything other than cats. This thing looks at them like she’d never expect them to be anything other than equals.

Hiromi had liked cats once. She has begun to hate them.

* * *

Hiromi’s walking home after practice when she sees the thing that isn’t Haru. A crow is perched on the fence cawing at her. The thing that isn’t Haru is looking up at it smiling. As the crow continues to caw the smile drops into a tight expression of worry. All of a sudden the crow cocks its head and launches itself into the air. It circles three times before taking off. The thing that isn’t Haru takes off as well. After a stunned moment Hiromi scrambles after.

The thing that isn’t Haru follows the same path as the bird but never looks up to check her course. She’s sure in her steps, sure in her destination. She never faulters even once. Hiromi can barely keep up.

She turns sharply, disappearing into an alley. Overhead the crow caws once more and dives. Hiromi follows only seconds later.

The alley is empty. Cement walls stretch upwards on all sides, smooth and unbroken. There are no doors, no windows. No cracks, no breaks. Just blank walls and twirling motes of dust that sparkle blue in the dim light.

She’s gone.

Hiromi stares. She stumbles forward, running her hands along the wall. There are no hidden exits. The only thing in the alley is a scattering of twigs and crow’s feathers.

Maybe that’s all the thing that isn’t Haru is. Twigs and crow feathers. And cat fur. 

It had always come back to cats with Haru.

Twigs and crow feathers and cat fur.

* * *

She should have noticed sooner.

Haru changed. It had been so easy to dismiss as Haru growing up. Becoming more mature. That’s what people their age did.

Then she kept changing. Hiromi brushed that off too. Something must have happened to change Haru’s perspective on things. Nothing big or she would have told Hiromi – of course she would have told her, why would she ever not, she was _Haru_ – but something that made her stop and take stock of herself.

Now there is almost nothing of Haru in its mask.

What happens the day it decides to abandon the last pretense of Haru entirely? Hiromi will have no foothold anymore. Her last ties to her friend will be gone and Haru will be lost, no hope to ever find her again.

What happens then?

* * *

“I haven’t seen you in _ages_.”

“You saw me yesterday.”

“That was in class, it doesn’t count. Every time I try to hang out you keep brushing me off.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to brush you off. I’ve been busy.” There are answers where she goes. Hiromi is sure of it.

“You’re always busy these days.” Hiromi leans against the doorway, batting her eyes dramatically. “Is it a _boy?_ ” Haru had harbored a crush on Machida for ages. When she’d suddenly stopped Hiromi had brushed it off. She’d brushed it off like she’d brushed off everything else. If she could go back in time Hiromi would scream at herself until her voice gave out.

It’s too late for that now.

She’d only been teasing, more for form than any expectation, so the blush she receives comes as a shock. She hadn’t even known it was capable of blushing. “It’s not like that. I’ve just been helping some friends.”

The word _friends_ sends a chill down Hiromi’s spine.

“Who?”

“No one.”

Hiromi leans dramatically against it, willing herself to be comfortable in its space like she would if this were really Haru and not an imposter who stole her skin. She leans hard on their friendship, on any scrap of sentimentality this thing might have. “Oh come on! We’re best friends! We tell each other everything! Remember when I first wanted to ask out Tsuge?”

“Yeah. I remember that,” it says, smiling, soft and fond. Apparently the thing is capable of nostalgia. “You freaked out for weeks and tried to eat your weight in pistachio ice cream.”

“Exactly. We tell each other everything. So who are they?”

“You’ve never met them.”

“That’s all the more reason to tell me! How can I judge if they’re good enough for my best friend if I’ve never met them?”

“They’re not– They’re kind of… reclusive.”

“That sounds like an excuse. It feels like you’re embarrassed by me.”

“Of course not. I talk about you to them all the time.”

“But you’ve never talked about them to me. So that’s how it is. You just want to keep them to yourself.”

The thing that isn’t Haru studies her from the side. “You’d really want to meet them?”

The very thought makes her skin crawl.

“Absolutely.”

She can’t bring Haru back if she’s left behind. She can’t bring Haru back if she can’t follow.

* * *

“There they are,” the thing that isn’t Haru says, pointing across the way at a table occupied by three men. The rightmost one is the biggest man Hiromi has ever seen. He’s a mountain of blubber topped with a petulant scowl. The man next to him is dressed entirely in black. The wide, overlong sleeves of his jacket cover his hands no matter how much he flaps them. The last man is sitting with his back towards them but he turns as if he can sense them. He stares straight at her. Straight through her. Hiromi’s breath catches in her throat. A cold shiver of something – fear, anger, _rundangerpredatordanger **run**_ –runs down Hiromi’s spine. This. This is the creature that took Haru away.

A sharp word from him has the other two looking up as well. As one they stand up and start weaving their way towards the two of them. The thing that isn’t Haru has them wait for the three to come to them. Hiromi’s grateful. If she takes a step she will be running.

When the strangers are in front of them the thing that isn’t Haru steps forward, playing happy hostess as if the world is her parlor. She waves her hand towards them in a motion far more graceful than anything the real Haru could have ever managed.

“Hiromi, I would like to introduce you to Muta –” the fat one grunts, “Toto –” the one in all black nods his head, “and –” the thing that isn’t Haru steps in close to the third man. Her hand brushes against his sleeve as she turns back to Hiromi. “– Baron Humbert von Gikkingen.”

The baron bows – a full formal, European style bow, one hand tucked behind his back and the other held in front of his waist. “Miss Hiromi. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Our Haru speaks of you often.”

He has green eyes and orange hair. A western accent and a gentleman’s cane. When he wraps his arm around whatever he’s replaced Haru with she leans into him. 

Hiromi has a feeling if she were to stab him he would not die.

* * *

The thing that isn’t Haru keeps less secrets now. Now that Hiromi’s met her _friends._ She’ll talk about them sometimes. Little things or funny stories like the ongoing saga of Toto’s attempts to grow a mulberry bush or how last week Muta had eaten and five whole cakes by himself.

She still disappears but sometimes, if Hiromi catches her at just the right moment, she’ll tell her she’s going to them.

The real secrets, the ones that matter, those she still keeps.

* * *

She thinks the meeting at the crossroads is going to be the end of it. She has met those who took Haru. She now knows their forms and faces. She has stared down the creature who stole Haru, tried and failed to take the measure of something far past what she can comprehend. Hiromi had fought as far as she could with no gain to show for it.

But then she sees them again.

First it’s a Toto joining them on a walk then it’s Muta waiting at the school’s gate.

It’s not frequent or often but slowly they carve a role in Haru’s life, right next to the space the thing that isn’t Haru has claimed as its own.

The baron does not deign to visit.

* * *

Hiromi’s walking home when she sees the thing that isn’t Haru. The baron is walking next to her. She’s pressed close to his side, her arm linked through his. Their heads are pressed close together, whispering to each other. The baron says something and the thing that isn’t Haru laughs.

They continue their walk, moving away. Hiromi scrambles after.

They have no set course. They’re sure of their steps, uncaring of their destination.

They turn a corner, disappearing. Hiromi follows only seconds later.

The street is empty.

The only thing left is twirling motes of dust that sparkle blue in the light.

* * *

Muta is the one Hiromi sees the most.

He will eat anything he can get his hands on but his favorite food is fresh fish, preferably tuna. He likes to complain of the brightness when it’s sunny and the cold when it’s cloudy.

Hiromi does not trust him.

Toto is clever and sharp-tongued.

He’s a picky eater and will always choose seeded bread over plain. He loves the wind and hates rainy days.

Hiromi does not trust him.

The baron does not deign to visit her.

He is dangerous.

Hiromi does not trust him.

She does not trust them with her Haru, wherever they have hidden her away.

Hiromi will be forever holding her breath, until she’s brought back.

* * *

But.

She doesn’t trust them with the thing that isn’t Haru either, whenever they whisk her away.

Hiromi’s forever holding her breath, until she comes back.

* * *

The thing that wears Haru’s face is not evil.

Hiromi believes that.

So when she runs up to Hiromi one day after lacrosse practice, out of breath and a wild light in her eyes, Hiromi stops and she listens.

“I need a favor.” A white cat follows at her heels. It jumps onto a low wall near her head, tail twitching. “I need you to make sure both you and my mom stay inside tonight.”

“What is it, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she says glancing behind her. For what Hiromi could never know. “Just some things that need taking care of. We’re handling it.”

“I can help.”

“You will be helping. I need to know you and my mom will both be out of the way.”

Hiromi grabs her hand. It is shaking. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“ _Nothing._ Just–” The cat meows and the thing that isn’t Haru startles. “ _Please_ Hiromi. Trust me.”

Before Hiromi can do anything she’s gone. The cat has vanished as well.

What was important to Haru is important to it. No one had been closer to Haru than Hiromi; no one had been more important to Haru than her mother.

* * *

It’s already beginning to get dark when Hiromi arrives at Haru’s door. The wind is whipping around like crazy, shrieking like a wounded animal. Naoko opens the door and a bubble of yellow light and warmth spills out behind her. Scraps of cloth cling to her sweater. “Hiromi, what a nice surprise. But I’m afraid Haru’s out for the evening.”

“That’s fine! I actually wanted to talk to you.” Naoko stares blankly at her and Hiromi panics. Her eyes land on the fabric clinging to her and she blurts out, “Quilting! Tsuge has a big tournament coming up and I wanted to make him something as a kind of good luck charm and I thought quilts except I don’t know how to make one and Haru’s always going on about how good you are at teaching–” She’s babbling, she knows she is but she can’t stop herself. She’s painfully reminded of Haru – the real Haru. She used to do that kind of thing all the time. Hiromi swallows it down. The memory tastes like ash and sits like a stone.

Hiromi spends the night at Haru’s house. They actually do start on a quilt, a simple spiraling pattern in Tsuge’s favorite colors. The thing that isn’t Haru never makes an appearance.

The wind screeches louder and louder. When she goes into the kitchen something’s scratching at the door. She swears she hears her name.

Hiromi blocks the door, turns the radio on and returns to the living room.

The next morning Hiromi wakes up on Haru’s couch to the thing that isn’t Haru walking through the front door. There’s a feather in her hair, cat fur covering her clothes and a cut on her cheek that refuses to bleed. She stands in the doorway and stretches. Her shirt rides up just enough for Hiromi to catch sight of the edge of a massive bruise. She freezes when she spots her. “Hiromi.”

“Is it over?” Hiromi asks before she can help herself. “Whatever… was going on?”

The thing that isn’t Haru nods. “Yeah. We took care of it. Did anything– did anything happen?”

“It kinda sounded like someone was trying to get in.” The thing that isn’t Haru looks at the kitchen door. At the chair that’s still in front of it.

“I’m sure it was just the wind. It was really stormy last night.”

“Yeah,” Hiromi lies. “Just the wind.”

All at once the thing that isn’t Haru throws her arms around Hiromi, engulfing her in a hug. “Thank you,” she says into Hiromi’s neck. “For listening to me.” The arms around her squeeze even tighter. “I was really scared you wouldn’t.”

“Of course,” Hiromi says on instinct. “Haru, of course. You’re my best friend. I trust you.” The last statement is less of a lie than it should be. Hiromi hates herself for it.

The thing that isn’t Haru steps back. It gives a little self-pleased smile. There’s an assessing gleam in its eye. Like Hiromi has passed some kind of test. “I’ll remember that.” Then its smile changes, the perfect copy of Haru. “You should probably be getting home. I’m sure your parents will be wondering.”

* * *

It is not evil. _It is not evil_. **_It is Not Evil_**.

* * *

It’s only that night, as she’s getting ready for bed that it strikes her that even if it wasn’t a test it didn’t mean it had to be a threat.

Hiromi shuts her eyes. She reminds herself of the very real panic she’d seen before. Of the too-tight hug after. Of the fear and the desperation. Of the howls at the door. _Something_ had tried to get in.

Just because whatever had been scratching at the door was a threat to the thing that isn’t Haru doesn’t mean it was a threat to _her._

All she knows was that something was out there last night. Something the thing that isn’t Haru didn’t want Hiromi or Haru’s mother to see. Something that came to Haru’s house and called Hiromi’s name.

Like the real Haru might.

That night Hiromi stares at the ceiling and cannot sleep.

* * *

Toto and Muta are not human.

They look human, they act human. There’s no tangible evidence of their inhumanity. But Hiromi has learned to recognize them for what they are.  
It started as a niggling whisper in her mind. _Look closer. Something is not right. Look closer._ Just a whisper. If she’d met them before – before she realized Haru had been taken, before she saw the truth – she wouldn’t have realized. But she knows better now. She knows what to look for. She knows to _look_. And every time she sees them, she becomes more and more certain. They are not human.

As for the baron, Hiromi was never fool enough to believe him human.

* * *

Haru used to be late all the time. It had just been a thing with her. The thing that isn’t Haru is almost never late. Now Hiromi worries whenever her seat is empty. She’s certain whatever the reason it’s something far bigger than a missed alarm.

It’s late this morning, rushing in, too distracted to even pretend to be embarrassed. Hiromi watches out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes are red like she’d spent the night crying. There’s something in her hand which she keeps glancing at every few seconds. The day drags on. The thing that isn’t Haru never gets any less tense and Hiromi gets more so every second. By the time the bell rings Hiromi’s ready to crawl out of her skin. The classroom empties while the thing that isn’t Haru doesn’t move. It lingers until everyone leaves.

“Haru?”

Its hand closes into a fist around whatever it’s holding. “I need a favor.”

Hiromi tenses, remembering scratching at Haru’s kitchen door. “What kind of favor?”

“It’s nothing bad. I just need you to hold onto something for me.” It opens its hand revealing what’s inside. It’s a pendant, small and bronze around a shining white stone. It almost glows in the light. Simply looking at it makes Hiromi feel warm and safe and she reaches forward to touch it without thinking, brushing the cold metal. Hiromi blinks and snatches her hand back.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing. It’s… it’s a gift for Baron.” Wow. For a being literally made of deception it is _terrible_ at lying. “I just need you to keep hold of it and then give it to Baron the next time you see him.”

“Why can’t you keep hold of it?”

“I can’t,” it says immediately. Its fingers close on the pendant again, gripping it hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “I– can’t.” After a moment it takes a sharp breath and shakes itself out of whatever is going through her head, before lying once more. “If I keep it, I’ll chicken out and not give it to him.”

“Why not Toto or Muta then?”

“They can’t.” Another breath, another lie, “They’d tease me forever if they knew.”

Hiromi hesitates. Scratching at the door. Her name on the wind.

“Please Hiromi.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” The thing that isn’t Haru drops the chain over Hiromi’s head, looping it around her neck. Hiromi picks the pendant up from where it sits on her chest. It’s warm in her palm. “You just need to keep it for a few days until Baron can come get it. Promise me you’ll give it to Baron. Don’t give it back to me. If I come asking for it back don’t listen. Whatever I say, whatever happens, don’t give it to anyone other than Baron.” Scratching at the door. Her name on the wind. “ _Please.”_

Hiromi’s hand curls around the pendant. “I promise.”

* * *

Hiromi wears the pendant under her shirt, warm against her breastbone.

The thing that isn’t Haru doesn’t mention it, doesn’t ask for it. It’s almost like she’s forgotten about it. Hiromi rests her hand on her shirt, over where it rests, and wishes she could forget about it too.

* * *

There is a chain that sits around the thing that isn’t Haru’s neck, disappearing into her shirt. Delicate bronze, just like the one that rests under Hiromi’s. The thing that isn’t Haru never mentions it. Hiromi doesn’t ask about it. It’s like it isn’t even there at all.

Then one morning the chain is missing. 

“Hiromi!” Its eyes are shadowed. There is a thin red line along its neck. “You still have the pendant, right?”

Hiromi nods. She rests a hand over it, warm against her breastbone, but doesn’t pull it out. “Yeah.”

“Good. Remember, only give it to Baron. No one but Baron.”

Hiromi wants to ask, to demand answers. The thing that isn’t Haru leaves before she can.

* * *

Hiromi is walking home alone that same evening when it comes.

She is alone when it comes.

“Hiromi!”

She turns at Haru’s voice and freezes at the sight before her. It’s Haru’s face, Haru’s voice.

That is all it is.

She does not know this _thing_ across from her.

It is not human.

It is not **_anything._**

“A few weeks ago, I gave you a pendant to hold onto, didn’t I?” Haru’s voice has always been welcome. Even from the imposter it has always been familiar, safe. It is not welcome now. Not from this _creature_.

Hiromi nods. She rests a hand over it, hot against her breastbone, but doesn’t pull it out. “Yeah.”

It is not Haru’s smile, too sharp, too gleaming. “Good. That’s… _good_. I need it back now.”

Hiromi’s hand curls around the pendant through her shirt. “No.”

The creature’s face darkens. It forces its face back into a smile, still too sharp, still too gleaming. “Come on Hiromi. I asked you to keep hold of it. Now I’m asking for it back. Simple as that.”

“You told me to give it to the baron.”

Its face twists. _“Baron.”_ Hiromi flinches. This is not the being she’s come to know, wrong but still welcome, false but still honest. This is a feral creature. This is a beast held back only by a cage Hiromi can’t see, stalking the edge of it. “Give me the pendant Hiromi.” Underneath her shirt the pendant _burns._

“I promised I’d only give it to the baron.”

“Give it to me!” 

“I think that’s quite enough of that.”

Both Hiromi and the creature whirl around. The baron appears out of the shadows. His green eyes are bright in the darkness. “Your manners seem to be missing tonight. I think it’s time you leave.”

“Perhaps I should go home, find my mother?” the creature hisses, baring its teeth in a vicious snarl.

“You won’t find it particularly welcoming.” The baron dips into a low, sweeping bow, eyes never dropping, remaining trained on the creature’s face. “But far be it for me to stop you.” He smiles, sharp and gleaming. “By all means, try.”

The creature snarls one last time and then vanishes.

The baron stares into the darkness long after it’s gone before finally turning his inhuman eyes toward Hiromi. “I believe you have something for me?”

Hiromi pulls out the pendant and places it in his outstretched hand.

The baron’s gloved fingers curl around it. “Thank you. Now, it is late and dark. Allow me to escort you home.”

They walk in silence, her arm curled around his elbow. It’s only when they reach the light of her front door that her legs give out under her. “I’m sorry,” the baron says as he helps her back to her feet. “You never should have had to deal with that. Our run-around didn’t last as long as we’d hoped.”

She curls her hand around the pendant where it sits, cold against his chest. “What was that thing?” she demands.

“Nothing you need worry about.”

“That was not Haru.”

“Go inside Miss Hiromi. By tomorrow it will be a bad dream, nothing more.”

Hiromi holds her ground. “And the scratching at Haru’s kitchen door?”

“There was a bad storm that night if I remember. It prevented Haru from returning home until morning. Storms have brought out the fears and imaginations of mankind for centuries. There’s no shame in reading more into that night than there was.”

This is the creature who took Haru. This is the creature who has the answers she needs. “That was not a dream and it was not the storm I heard.”

The baron stares down at her. “There’s an English idiom that I think applies quite well here.” His eyes reflect the light, flashing in the dark. “ _Curiosity killed the cat_.”

“I’ve heard that one before. There’s a second part to it, isn’t there?”

His lips twist into a wry smile and he inclines his head. “ _And satisfaction brought it back_. But it never says what as.”

Hiromi’s back straightens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not meant to mean anything. Merely a reminder. That the world is vast and unpredictable. And often dangerous because of it.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

“Humans are not cats, Miss Hiromi,” he says turning to leave. “They are much less adaptable.”

“And I suppose Haru the exception to that rule?” she calls after him.

The baron stops, just at the edge of the shadows. “No, Miss Hiromi. Unfortunately, very much not.”

* * *

“I want you to have something.” The thing that isn’t Haru presses something into Hiromi’s palm. When she looks down a very familiar pendant sits in her hand.

“I thought this was a gift for the baron?”

“It was… useful. But ultimately it’s not meant for someone like u– like Baron.”

Useful. Hiromi turns the word over in her head, wondering just how a decorative pendant could be considered _useful_.

These are the kinds of secrets she keeps.

The thing that isn’t Haru is a lot like the baron in that way.

“And you think I should have it.”

“I can’t always be there. If something– The world is big. And unpredictable. This would keep y– It would be a good thing for you to have.”

Hiromi looks down at the pendant. She should ask. Demand the answers the baron wouldn’t give her.

Hiromi slips the pendant over her head where it sits, warm against her breastbone. “Okay.”

* * *

Hiromi forgets sometimes. When she stays behind on days Hiromi’s assigned classroom chores, pulling out homework and waiting for Hiromi to be finished so they can walk home together. When she laughs and references some years-old joke of theirs that never even made sense in the first place.

Hiromi will fall into step beside her. She’ll joke back with something even older. She’ll lean against her let herself relax into the familiarity of it. And for those brief moments nothing will be wrong.

And then she’ll turn and see that same inhuman _something_ that makes up the baron behind her eyes and she will remember.

She forgets sometimes. That she’s not the real Haru.

* * *

They’re sitting at the crossroads, at the same little café she’d first met the baron at. They’re out for a girl’s day no concrete plans past their pastries, basking in the sunlight. There’s a fat, mean-looking blob of fur lounging on the seat of another table. The thing that isn’t Haru had bought a slice of cake for it. Hiromi finishes her last bite. Across from her the thing wearing Haru’s face sips her tea and smiles at her.

They’re at the crossroads.

Hiromi has been at a crossroad for months.

“Haru? You care about me, right?”

The thing that isn’t Haru sets down her tea, going from relaxed to alert in seconds. “What? You know I do.” She reaches out and grabs Hiromi’s hand, squeezing her palm.

“And I’m your friend, right? A friend right now, not just because we’ve been friends for so long.”

The thing that isn’t Haru looks honestly distressed now. “Yes! Hiromi you’re my _best_ friend! You’ll always be my best friend.” The grip on her hand tightens and the look on her face is physically pained. “Did something ha–”

“I need you to tell me something.”

“Of course. Anything.” The thing that isn’t Haru is almost halfway across the table now from how far she’s leaning over. She’s studying Hiromi’s face as if she can figure out the problem through intensity alone.

“I need you to tell me. And I need you to tell me the truth. Promise me.”

“Hiromi tell me–”

_“Promise me.”_

“I promise.”

Hiromi takes a deep breath. She shuts her eyes and thinks of Haru. She’s at a crossroads. She opens her eyes. “Where is Haru?”

The thing that isn’t Haru freezes. For just a second. “What are you talking about Hiromi? I’m right here.” It is Haru’s face, Haru’s voice, Haru’s little concerned head-tilt.

“You are not Haru.”

It’s terrifying and freeing and almost surreal to say what she’s known for so long out loud. To let the truth exist outside of her head.

The thing that isn’t Haru sits back down. Her hand slips from Hiromi’s own. “Hiromi–”

“You promised me. You promised me the truth.” The thing that isn’t Haru doesn’t speak. For just a second, everything hangs in the air, suspended. She has no idea what the thing across from her is going to do. Lunge and attack or snarl and threaten or smile and laugh. Or change somehow, like a spell being broken. Reveal just what’s really underneath Haru’s skin. Or worst of all deny it. Deny everything.

Hiromi’s not sure what she’ll do if that happens.

Instead the thing that isn’t Haru slumps against her chair and lets out a quiet little breath like she’s somehow injured. “It’s not that simple.”

“You are not Haru,” Hiromi repeats. The words aren’t as freeing as the first time.

“I am. And I’m not. It’s complicated.”

“I don’t care. Where is Haru?”

“I’m right here.”

 _“You are not Haru.”_ The words aren’t freeing at all anymore. They sound desperate. They sound like a lie. _“You’re not her.”_

The thing that isn’t Haru smiles at her, soft and sad. In that moment Hiromi knows. She knows before the words are even spoken. She wants to scream. She wants to run. She wants to stop this before it’s made real. “I’m sorry Hiromi.”

The words hit her like a blow. She squeezes her eyes shut. If she just tries hard enough, if she just closes her eyes tight enough, she can go back. She can forget and play pretend a little longer. “No. No no no.”

A hand reaches out and gently covers her own. “I might not be your Haru but I’m still your best friend. I’ll always be your best friend.”

It’s too much. Hiromi’s breath hitches. She clamps her hand over her mouth but it doesn’t stop the hiccupping gasps. “She’s gone. She’s gone she’s gone.” The dam breaks entirely and the gasps turn to great heaving sobs.

Arms wrap themselves around her. It’s awkward, her crouching next to Hiromi who’s doubled over in her chair but her arms are solid and warm. “Hey, hey, shh. shhhshh. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be okay. I promise.” She keeps up a steady stream of soothing words, rocking her back and forth, hands rubbing circles on her back the same way she had when they were twelve and Hiromi’s grandfather had died. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Hiromi clings to her best friend and cries.

* * *

It’s a long time before she finally stops crying. A few of the other patrons glance their way but she’d been crying long enough most have turned back to their conversations. The surrounding tables have cleared out, a clear space around the hysterical crying girl. Hiromi roughly wipes her eyes, suddenly self-conscious.

“Feel better?” Haru asks gently, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

The question startles a laugh out of her. “No,” she croaks. Even as she says it she realizes she does in fact feel better. Not good but less… less desperate, less angry, less fearful. She’s hollow and scraped raw but at the same time lighter for it. Haru must see some of that on her face because she carefully stands back up and returns to her seat.

Their tea has long since gone cold and bitter when Hiromi takes a sip. Haru makes a face at her cup and despite everything the sight makes a smile want to tug at Hiromi’s mouth. She’s such a tea snob. On the heels of that comes the realization that Hiromi doesn’t know if that fact was true of her Haru or just this one.

“Did she… Did you like tea? Before?”

Haru tilts her cup back and forth, studying the liquid. “I suppose. Things have happened that make me fond of it for reasons other than its taste.”

Hiromi stares down at her own cup. “Oh.” The noise sounds small and young to her own ears. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling anymore. 

“It wasn’t meant to happen,” Haru says. “Sometimes even when you win… Some things you just can’t control.” She sighs and sets her cup down. It connects with the saucer with a small, clink. It’s a delicate sound, one Hiromi’s come to associate with her. “I think, if I’d never gone back, if I’d moved on, just kept it as a dream then I wouldn’t have realized. I would have thought everything was the same. That I was still the same.” Different maybe, but still me.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Not at first.” Without the teacup to keep them occupied her hands flutter restlessly. “If I hadn’t gone back, maybe never. But as I kept going back it became more and more obvious… But even if I’d never gone back at all, I still would have… Even if I never went back it wouldn’t have changed anything. It just would have made it harder to see.”

“What happened?”

Haru lets out a sad sounding laugh. It’s not a laugh Hiromi’s ever heard before. It’s not bitter or angry, just… old. “A lot of things. But mainly… mainly I saved a cat. And then a cat saved me.”

It’s such a Haru answer that for a moment Hiromi wants to cry all over again. “Tell me?”

“It’s complicated Hiromi. There’s a lot… there’s a lot I just can’t explain.”

“Please.”

“I can’t–”

_“I’ll show you.”_

Hiromi recognizes that voice. She whips frantically around, searching for its owner. A man that size can’t exactly hide. She finds nothing.

“Down here.”

Hiromi looks down. The cat from earlier is sitting on the ground beside their table staring up at her. Hiromi’s world tips just the tiniest bit on its axis. “You want to know about Haru, right? I can show you.”

“Stay out of this Muta,” Haru snaps.

The cat jumps up on the empty seat glaring reproachfully. “She can know if she wants to.”

“She has a _life_ Muta. You’re not going to take that away.”

“I’m not taking away anything.”

“You might not see it that way but that doesn’t mean it’s the truth.”

The cat’s ear twitches, a small, aborted motion. It almost looks guilty. “If you’re upset that’s your problem. You don’t have to keep coming back to the refuge.”

“Don’t you dare try turning this back on me. I’ve accepted my life; I’m happy with my choices. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let Hiromi get mixed up in them. I never got to make that first choice. She does.”

The cat’s tail twitches. “You don’t get to make it for her Chicky.”

“You have no right to drag her into this.”

“Actually I do. It’s you who has no right to keep her out of it.”

Before Hiromi knows it Haru’s grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck. The cat yowls, swiping its claws at her. “ _Leave her alone_ ,” she hisses. The cat lands in a spitting pile of fur. Haru grabs Hiromi’s arm. She looks terrified. “Where he’s going it’s not– You can’t go with him and then come back. If you go with him you’ll be just as lost. I know you want answers but there aren’t any. All this will do is take you away too. You can’t bring your Haru back. All following him will mean is that your parents and Tsuge and everyone else will lose their Hiromi.”

“The kid has to make her own decisions.”

The glare Haru shoots it is deadly enough it should have killed the cat right on the spot. “Then tell me I’m wrong. Tell me anything I just said was wrong.”

The cat looks away. Its ear twitches again, another small, aborted motion. “I’m leaving,” it announces. “Are you coming?”

“ _No_ we are _not_.” Haru says, tugging on her arm, trying to pull her up. “ _We_ are going to keep shopping.” There are tears building at the corners of her eyes. “We’ve still got our girl’s day to have. We’re going to get pistachio ice cream and go to all her favorite shops and then she’s going to go _home_.” The cat swipes it's claws at the back of Haru's hand, forcing her to lets go of Hiromi's arm. Her palm almost looks burned.

“There’s rules here too Chicky.”

“She’s my best friend,” she says helplessly to the cat.

The cat’s ear twitches one last time. It still won’t look at Haru. “I know Chicky,” it says. It hops down off the chair. “If you want the truth follow me.”

“Your path’s not truth. It’s oblivion,” Haru says. “Follow me.”

The cat takes a step back.

Haru takes a step back.

There are answers where it goes. Hiromi is sure of it.

It weaves its way into the crowd.

She weaves her way into the crowd.

There is oblivion where it goes. Hiromi is sure of it.

It reaches the edge of the crossroads.

She reaches the edge of the crossroads.

Haru is gone. Hiromi is not.

The cat turns to look at her, then is swallowed by the crowd, disappearing from view.

Haru turns to look at her, then is swallowed by the crowd, disappearing from view.

Hiromi stands.

She follows.

**Author's Note:**

> So  
> Which one does she follow?  
> Which is the purer act of friendship? To search for the truth, to follow Haru's story into the oblivion that follows, unflinching? Or to stay safe and carry her memory forward so that there remains someone who knew Haru and knows she's gone? What matters more, never giving up on her friend, even if it means sharing the same fate? Or what Haru would want, even if it means abandoning her?  
> There is no right answer. There is no wrong one.  
> Which one does she follow?  
> Which path does she choose?  
> The Lady?  
> Or the Tiger?


End file.
